


Take the bus?

by DmitriMolotov



Series: The Fakes One-shots and Prompts [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Gen, Humor, Language, Mild Gore, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6910366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DmitriMolotov/pseuds/DmitriMolotov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“That’s right motherfuckers, you heard me; I said take the bus.”</em>
</p><p>So Ryan and Michael catch the bus home. I mean, that should be easy, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take the bus?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from Tumblr @RTficwriternetwork: It's a long walk home.

Michael and Ryan had been on a recon run in downtown Los Santos when Ryan may-or-may-not-have accidentally-on-purpose initiated a gang attack… with the police... using C-4.

But it was fine.

Michael was driving, he had the situation totally under control, he lost the cops on the motorway, throwing a hard U-turn and driving into a subway tunnel. They hadn’t expected the train though.

The pair saw the oncoming headlights and at the last possible moment, they bailed out. The train smashed full-force into Michael’s less-than-subtle chrome-plated Adder and pushed it a good 20 yards down the track behind them. They stood, dusted themselves off and ran fast in the opposite direction, the sound of sirens screaming, echoing down the tunnel after them.

The sirens eventually faded as they emerged on the other side of the tunnel, exhausted but high on adrenaline, doubled over to catch their breath.

Ryan started it. He laughed long and loud and hard, tears building up in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t quite explain why it was so funny, but when it infuriated Michael, it only made it worse.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Why the fuck are you _laughing_?! We were nearly fucking _killed_! Did you see what happened to my car?! Holy shit!” It wasn’t more than a few seconds before Ryan’s laughter infected Michael and he started giggling. Before long, both of them were in hysterics.

Eventually they regained control of themselves.

“Alright, we’d better call Geoff, get someone to come pick us up. It’s a long walk home.”

* * *

“That’s right motherfuckers, you heard me; I said take the bus.” Michael had Geoff on loud-speaker, holding his phone in between them.

Ryan raised an eyebrow at Michael, “You mean, like,  _take_ the bus right?”

“I’d rather you not bring all the cops back here, so no, do not _steal_ the bus,” Geoff clarified.

Michael was equally perplexed, “I think he means, like, _take_ the bus.”

“Don’t you fucking dare hijack the fucking bus!” Geoff yelled over the phone, clearly exasperated.

“Seriously though Geoff, you can take my Zentorno, you’ll be here and back in no time at all, and we can y’know, just leave Michael here…”

“Oh thanks, asshole.”

Geoff made a frustrated noise in his throat, before very slowly and way-too-calmly saying, “Ryan. You’re. Taking. The. Bus.”

Michael was stifling a giggle, “That was fuckin’ creepy Geoff.”

Geoff muttered “Idiots” under his breath before the line went dead.

Ryan turned to look at Michael, mischief written all over his face, “So… I guess we’re taking the bus?”

* * *

“I love it,” Michael began, kicking at a discarded cigarette butt as they waited at the bus stop, “Geoff says to try to stay incognito.” He gestured to Ryan’s usual heist getup, complete with his trademark black skull mask.

“What, do I stand out?” Ryan asked, cocking his head to the side and looking really fucking creepy.

Michael rolled his eyes, “Maybe just a little. At least take the fucking mask off man.”

Ryan shrugged, pulling off his mask, “This better?”

“Seriously? Seriously?!” Michael stared agape at Ryan’s harlequin-esque red and black face paint.

“What? It’s everyday face paint. Normal people wear it.”

Michael shook his head, “God damnit, I can’t take you fuckin’ anywhere!”

Ryan just grinned, feeling pleased with himself as the bus rolled around the corner. Michael flagged it down, still shaking his head at Ryan who stuffed the mask into his jacket. Ryan followed Michael onto the bus, straight past the driver.

The driver was an elderly man with curly white facial hair who huffed as Ryan stalked past him, catching his attention. Ryan threw a glance back at him that ordinary people usually shied away from, but the driver just cleared his throat and in a deceptively authoritative voice asked, “Tickets?”

Michael’s eyes grew wide and a smirk formed on his face, “Excuse me?”

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up as he watched on, unsure of what to make of this interaction.

“You need a ticket to ride.” The driver said matter-of-factly.

“Or?” Ryan tested, a menacing look coming over his painted face.

The driver gave him a look that suggested he took no shit. “Or you’ll have to take another form of transport to your Halloween party.”

Ryan wasn’t even mad, he was just impressed. He grinned and turned to Michael, who looked like he was equally amused.

Michael pulled a 50 from his back pocket, slapped it on the ticket machine and told the driver to keep the change as he gave him a wink and made a beeline for the back of the bus. Michael went to sit on the back bench before realising he was alone, his eyes scanning the bus and seeing that Ryan had plonked himself down in the first free seat in the middle of the bus. Michael got back up and walked down to him, standing over him as the bus pulled out into traffic.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked, slight annoyance in his voice.

“I’m catching the bus,” Ryan said plainly.

“Come sit up the back with me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s where we sit,” Michael glanced around at the other passengers, some of whom were now nervously staring at the mad man with the face paint.

“You’re too cool for the regular seats Michael?” Ryan teased.

Michael pointed to a sign: _Please vacate these seats for elderly or less abled passengers_.

“I know you’re probably starting to feel your age, old man, but I don’t think you qualify as elderly yet.”

“Nah, there’s plenty of seats,” Ryan dismissed with a smirk.

“It’s just fucking polite!”

A few heads flicked around and the bus driver glanced in the rear-view mirror to see what the commotion was about. Ryan chuckled at the thought of Michael being ‘fucking’ polite.

“Nah, I’m good here.”

“Oh my God,” Michael finally relented and sat next to Ryan. “I hate you.”

“For not wanting to be one of the ‘cool kids’?" Ryan smirked and shrugged, "I’m ok with that.”

Michael shook his head. Sometimes Ryan was almost worse than Gavin. _Almost_.

Ryan subtly nodded up to the security cameras positioned about the bus, then to the monitor displaying the CC-TV footage flicking between the cameras. The footage wasn’t great, fuzzy grey static mostly, but as the screens changed, Michael noticed the seat Ryan had chosen didn’t turn up in any of the shots. The asshole had found the only blind spot on the bus.

He felt a pang of envy at the Gent’s observational astuteness, and a twinge of anger at himself for not spotting it sooner before calming down. “Yeah, yeah, alright. I guess it’s as good a spot as any,” he acknowledged with a slight nod.

Ryan smiled, trying not to act too smug, he knew Michael’s ego could be fragile, especially at times like this, but he’d take it as a learning experience and the lad was a fast learner.

“Is it just me, or is this bus going real slow?” Ryan asked after a minute of staring out the window.

“I think it’s probably doing the speed limit, Rye Bread.”

“Hmm,” Ryan nodded slowly, “Forgot that was a thing… Why are we stopping?”

“Jesus dude, it’s a bus! It’s probably picking up passengers or some shit. What is wrong with you?”

The bus door swung open and a few people stepped inside, scanning their tickets, like they supposed regular people should.

The last guy to get on the bus muttered something under his breath to the driver as he paid for his ticket and the driver looked like he had taken offense, but the guy seemed to take no notice as he roughly pushed past an older woman at the front of the bus and slunk past Michael and Ryan to sit in the seat directly behind them. He eyeballed Ryan the whole time, looking unsure what to make of the long-haired man with the face paint. He smelled like Geoff on a Saturday night, even though it was only early afternoon on Tuesday.

Ryan turned slightly, trying to steal a sidelong glance at him to determine if he was staring because he recognized him, but the guy was still staring at him and noticed immediately.

“The hell you looking at?” He drawled.

Ryan said nothing, just smirked and looked back out the window.

“Fuckin’ freak,” the guy muttered. When he didn’t get a response he continued, “nice make up, you some kind of clown?”

Ryan maintained his self-satisfied smirk and cool gaze out the window, letting the words roll off him like raindrops off his leather jacket. Conversely, Michael felt himself involuntarily tense up, his body ready for a fight. Ryan noticed and nudged his arm, as if to say _Don’t. Just let it go_.

“What’s the matter freak? Cat got your tongue? Or are you a mime? Maybe you should mime something for me…” 

Michael shot Ryan a look that said something along the lines of, _No, this guy’s being a total douchebag_.

“How ‘bout you mime sucking your boyfriend’s dick?” He made the gesture with his hand and Ryan sighed, knowing what was about to happen as he saw the look on Michael’s face.

This time he didn’t try to stop him.

“Hey asshole!” Michael spun around to face the guy.

“Huh?” The guy seemed legitimately surprised.

“Yeah fuck-face, I’m talking to you,” Michael’s Jersey accent made a brief reappearance, “You got something to say? You fucking say it to our faces.”

The guy scoffed, he was easily bigger than Michael, so it must have been amusing that it was Michael, rather than Ryan who was the one challenging him.

“Jesus, this guy’s got a mouth on him,” the guy commented to anyone who would listen.

“Yeah, just try to get him to shut up now…” Ryan muttered under his breath.

Some of the other passengers were starting to get anxious, moving away from them or pulling out their phones at the ready to call the cops or discreetly record anything that might go down.

It was a fair assumption on their part.

Michael shifted his position, grabbed the guy’s collar, pulling him close to get up in his face. “I can tell you like your hotdogs, big guy, but by the time I’m done with you, they’ll be feeding you them with tubes. So how’s about you turn around and mind your own goddamned business?” He held his face close to the guy’s for a few seconds longer, just so he could see the fire in his eyes, before releasing him and turning back around in his seat.

The guy was momentarily taken aback, but as it sunk in what had just happened, Ryan saw him straighten up, almost shaking with anger.

The guy leaned forward, drawing his fist back as though to punch Michael in the back of the head, “Why you little…”

Ryan sighed, “Alright, that’s enough.”

He drew his pistol, pressing it under the guy’s chin and pulling the trigger in one smooth, practiced motion. The guy’s brains splattered the ceiling and fragments of bone and brain matter rained down on them, showering the other passengers with gore.

Screams broke out from the onlooking passengers. The driver panicked and the bus swerved, skidding sideways off the road and coming to a lurching halt in a ditch. The passengers were thrown forward, but Michael and Ryan, with years of experience with crashes and accidents simply braced themselves accordingly and waited for the bus to stop.

“What did you do that for?!”

“Oh please, if I didn’t, you would’ve.”

“Well, yeah, but not like that!”

People were fleeing the bus, screaming and rushing past them, climbing over the body on the floor, slipping in blood and tracking a mess all over the place.

“I mean, really,” Ryan called after the passengers in an even tone, “You should be thanking us!”

“The guy was an asshole! We’re not the bad guys here!” Michael chimed in.

They were left alone in the bus, still sitting in Ryan’s blind-spot seat, covered in a stranger’s cerebral fluids. It didn’t seem as unusual as it probably should have.

“Well, you fucked us again Ryan, are you happy?”

“Hey, _you_ started it! And you crashed the car.”

“After _you_ got the cops to chase us! What happened to your murder break?”

“Oh please Michael, that ended _months_ ago.”

“You said you were starting a new one last week!”

“Oh! Did I? Oops.”

Michael’s grin betrayed the anger in his words; he was clearly still having fun with this.

“…Can’t say I blame you though,” Michael said climbing to his feet, “Guy was an asshole.”

Ryan got up after carefully stepping over the corpse and leaving the crashed bus in the ditch. All the other passengers had already fled.

“Welp, better get going,” Ryan said, turning to leave, “It’s a long walk home.”

Michael sighed before trudging after him.

“…I hate you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [GnT](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GnT/pseuds/GnT) for being the voice of Michael when I drew a blank.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://dmitrimolotov.tumblr.com/)


End file.
